Burning him alive would not be enough. He added a third finger to the two already inside. Swan’s body accepted it without difficulty, responding with pleasure rather than pain. Atlion’s eyebrows furrowed. This was the body of a woman who knew a man’s touch – he was the one who had introduced her to such desires.

But on the nights he wasn’t there, had that opening been wrapped around another man’s p*nis, moving with him instead? The thought made his blood run cold, turn to ice. He withdrew his fingers abruptly and grasped her spread thighs, pulling them closer to his hips.

“Ah!”

He looked down at Swan, startled and trembling beneath him, and asked again.

“Did you spend the night with a man who wasn’t me?”

Swan’s lips trembled, but she didn’t answer. The longer the silence lasted, the more his vision blurred with rage. The thought of Swan with another man, taking him as her husband, consumed him. Without warning, he thrust his hardened p*nis into her entrance. If necessary, he would tear that defiant opening apart to make sure it knew its true owner.

“Ah! It hurts! Stop, it hurts! Please…!”

“Speak. Tell me exactly what this body did. Every single detail!”

Atlion drove his entire p*nis in with a single thrust, his hips beginning to move rhythmically. The area where his t*sticles met her perineum reddened and swelled from the repeated impact. Gripping her slender arms tightly, he thrust into her with relentless force.

He looked down at the point where their bodies met and watched as the tip penetrated her entrance again and again, creating frothy white bubbles with each thrust. Swan gasped for breath, her hands clawing at his abdomen. Even with her nails digging in, that was all she could manage. This frail, harmless woman – that was all she was capable of.

And yet she had completely ruined him. Completely, irreparably.

What would he have done if he hadn’t found her? If Swan had been carrying another man’s child, her belly swelling with his seed? The thought of her living under the same roof with another man was unbearable. She had destroyed him again, torn him apart beyond repair. It was a miracle he still had an ounce of composure.

What man in the world could maintain his sanity after discovering traces of his wife’s infidelity? That he restrained himself to that extent was something Swan should consider merciful.

“Ah, hngh, ahhh! Too fast… it’s too fast! Haaah!” 

Panting and trembling, Swan half-opened her dazed eyes to look at him. He had no intention of granting her request. Instead, a cruel thought crossed his mind – he wanted her to suffer, to feel pain instead of pleasure. He wanted her to collapse in his arms, to cry until she begged for forgiveness.

“Beg forgiveness.”

Atlion whispered coldly, his face expressionless as he moved his hardened p*nis. Swan looked up at him in despair, tears streaming from her eyes. She shook her head in refusal.

“Now!” 

“Let me go… please, just let me go.”

“This damned woman…!” 

Atlion cursed under his breath, grabbing her hips roughly as he thrust into her. Enraged, he didn’t register the gentle touch of her hand as it traced the scars along his veins. With a sharp exhale, he pulled his slick, sperm-dripping p*nis out of her and turned her over.

He grabbed a handful of her long hair and pressed her face into the pillow. He pressed himself against her thin back, aligning his hips with hers once more. Swan, her hair pulled tight in his grip, let out a small sob before whispering softly.

“If… if I take it until your anger subsides… hic, hngh… will you let me go then?”

Atlion, who had been rubbing against her perineum, suddenly froze. Swan hiccupped softly with a shuddering sob. The blue eyes, clouded with lust, began to burn with rising rage. Releasing her tangled hair, he gripped her shoulders tightly, his gaze fixed on the red and purple bruises on her pale skin. He murmured in a low voice.

“You’re not going anywhere.”

“Hic…”

“Because you’re mine.”

“Your Majesty…”

His absinthe eyes, wet and shimmering, flickered faintly in the dim light. Atlion pressed his lips to her soft, fruit-like mouth before inhaling the scent that lingered on her pale neck, where her dishevelled red hair had fallen. Then he bared his teeth and bit her neck. Swan’s body jerked violently at the sharp, lingering pain, but she did not struggle or resist.

Atlion grabbed her slender hand roughly and thrust his p*nis into her entrance. Swan, her body trembling from her narrow waist to her soft, full hips, opened her mouth wide, momentarily forgetting to breathe.

“Haa! Ngh, ah!”

Shrill cries burst from her lips as the thick p*nis that had forced itself into her entrance began to move with a relentless rhythm. Swan could not remember the last time she had experienced such intimacy – perhaps it had been that night in the tent during their journey to Solam.

The man was convinced that Swan had been intimate with Theo. She had no way of defending herself, having allowed the misunderstanding to linger. But the truth remained – she had never been with Theo. Despite their marriage and the expectation of consummation, it had never happened.

She hadn’t ruled it out from the start, but in the end, she just couldn’t go through with it. On those nights when they sat facing each other, gazing as if about to intertwine, Theo didn’t feel like a man to her. It was more like crossing legs with a brother bound by blood.

In the end, it seemed Theo felt the same, as he offered an awkward smile before stepping away.

Swan didn’t try to stop him, and Theo didn’t look back. Did Theo feel the same way? She didn’t know. But Theo didn’t force anything. He was different from the man holding her now. She gasped for breath, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

Her gaping hole was so wide it felt like it could tear her apart. Without realising it, she began to shake, her hips and thighs moving instinctively. Her mind was in chaos and her vision blurred. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and bit down hard on the pillowcase.

A shuddering *rgasm consumed her from the tips of her toes upwards. His p*nis, buried inside her, moved in and out relentlessly, as if threatening to tear her apart. Swan, who had raised her hips as high as she could, suddenly stopped panting and looked forward.

Uncertain of what was happening, she tried to come to her senses and make sense of the situation, but her attention was completely stolen by the overwhelming, terrible pleasure. Though it was undoubtedly forced, the pleasure coursed through her in sharp waves – tantalising and maddening. Every time the t*sticles, no bigger than a baby’s fist, hit her perineum, she felt an intense urge to clutch at her chest and tear it apart.

The experience was different from what she had expected – she thought it would just be pain. Was something wrong with her? Swan turned her head to look at the man. The man, gripping her plump hips, met her gaze. She frowned and made a nasal sound of discomfort.

No matter how hard she tried to resist, she couldn’t. Then again, everything about this man’s touch was like that – it made her feel things she didn’t want to feel and do things she didn’t want to do. He lifted his hand and gently brushed the corner of her eye before sliding it down to her outer lips and slowly caressing them.

“Ha… Hngh, ugh! Ahh…”

A shiver ran through her. Before she could push him away, his fingers found her cl*t. The man, who had been gently circling the swollen, sensitive nub, suddenly pinched and twisted it. A wave of heat surged through her, as if she were being consumed by flames. Swan instinctively shook her hips and curled her toes.

“Ah! Aah!”

As she twisted her hips in discomfort, he lifted Swan up and guided her arms around his neck. Swan looked up at him, almost mesmerised. Her heaving br*ast pressed against his firm, muscular torso.

“Hold me.”

With dazed eyes she tried to feel him, her vision blurred. Following his lead, she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck. His large hands alternated between squeezing and releasing her br*asts. Swan blinked slowly, watching his actions without a word.

The man, still kneading her br*ast, lifted her effortlessly. Instinctively, she wrapped her legs around his waist. He gave her a light pat on the hip, as if praising her, causing her to blush with embarrassment. He chuckled softly at the sight of her flushed cheeks.

The tip of his p*nis brushed against her entrance. Swan glanced down, noticing the rise of her chest, her swollen br*asts and the defined bulge of his abs. Beads of sweat trickled down between the ridges of his sculpted muscles. Instinctively, she tightened her grip around his waist to prevent herself from slipping. Atlion let out a hearty laugh.

Embarrassed, she loosened her grip slightly, only for the man to pull Swan’s soft body even closer and hold her tightly.

“Your Majesty…”

When she weakly called out to him, the man, his eyes blazing with fervour, gazed at Swan for a long moment. Then he nipped the bridge of her nose before pressing his lips to hers in a teasing kiss.

When her cheek brushed against the faint stubble on his jaw, Swan frowned slightly. Instinctively, she turned her head away, but Atlion left his mark, grazing her soft skin, earlobe and delicate jawline with soft bites.

“Mm…”

Finally, after biting his lip, he positioned his p*nis at her entrance. The quivering hole released a steady stream of fluid, its sticky scent reaching his nose. Swan, who had entwined tongues with him and exchanged saliva, pulled away from his lips and exhaled a deep, heated breath.

Atlion, who had slid in halfway and then pulled out halfway, stroked Swan’s long hair gently as he murmured softly.

“Your body.”

“Ahhhh… .”

“It’s too sweet. It’s so sweet, so sweet….”

“Ahh, ahhh. Please, hmph… “

“What?”